


How the Rebellion Accidentally Bought a Jedi (the Blue Milkshake Mission)

by misskatieleigh



Category: Rogue One: A Star Wars Story (2016), Star Wars Original Trilogy
Genre: M/M, Pre-Star Wars: A New Hope, Star Wars Rare Pairs Exchange 2017
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-26
Updated: 2017-11-26
Packaged: 2019-02-05 08:34:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,549
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12790755
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/misskatieleigh/pseuds/misskatieleigh
Summary: Cassian travels to Tatooine to secure some intel. He really didn't mean to buy an attractive blond as well...





	How the Rebellion Accidentally Bought a Jedi (the Blue Milkshake Mission)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [days4daisy](https://archiveofourown.org/users/days4daisy/gifts).



Stepping off the shuttle into the heat of two suns is enough to set Cassian on edge. Tatooine is a world of dust, sand creeping into his clothes and gritting against his teeth. He pulls his scarf up around his mouth and tries not to breath too deeply. In his ear, K-2SO is complaining - about being left on the shuttle, about the probability that this has been a wasted trip, about Force knows what else. Cassian tunes him out, his attention focused on the nearest bar and the stormtroopers wandering the periphery of the shuttle depot. His alias isn’t wanted on this planet, not yet, but he knows the value of keeping attention off of himself. 

Inside the bar the heat is less oppressive, blowing dust traded for the stink of travellers too long between washings. Cassian supposes that showers are a luxury too expensive for most of the sentients in the room, but even a sonic would be better than nothing. Scanning the room for his contact, Cassian makes his way over to the counter. He tips his head to the bartender and orders a glass of something local and cheap, sliding a credit chip and a little extra across the counter before heading to a booth in the corner. His vantage point lets him watch the door and keeps a wall at his back, but he still feels ill at ease. The contact on Tatooine is a klatoonian, looking to sell information to the highest bidder and with no particular loyalty to anyone but his credit balance. It’s Cassian’s least favorite type of informant. Still, he really hopes he doesn’t have to kill the ugly bastard, he’d like to be able to spend the night planetside and he’ll have to jump to hyperspace if he winds up with blood on his hands. Plus K-2 will be insufferable if he’s right. 

The door swings open, light and dust spilling in along with a couple of men. One of them is barely that, looking overwhelmed by his own clothes and with a mop of sandy blond hair falling into his eyes. The other appears to be in control, for lack of a better term, leading Mr. Young and Impressionable over to the bar with a hand at the small of his back. Against his better judgement, Cassian lets his gaze follow the pair, lingering on the clasp of tight leggings over a set of slim thighs. He watches for a minute too long, enough time for the klatoonian to slip into the booth across from him unnoticed. 

“Looking to buy more than just information, Chelis?” he asks, laughing darkly. Cassian grips his thigh under the table, schooling his face into indifference. Chelis is definitely the sort to notice something pretty, but he can't afford to get distracted as well. “I don’t generally have to pay someone to fuck me, Torge. We aren’t all as ugly as you.”

Torge draws his mouth up into what must be intended as a smile, too sharp teeth lending a deadly edge to his expression. Forcing a smile in return, Cassian lays both hands on the table. “I will take the information, though, make it worth my time coming out to the ass end of the galaxy.”

Cassian can just see the two men from before out of the corner of his eye. He doesn’t know why he’s watching, they’re no different than a hundred sets of men on a hundred different planets and he has no vested interest in either of them. Something about them feels off, though, and instinct is a tool he can't afford to ignore. Maybe there’s still a little bit of him that believes he can actually make a difference, instead of just trying to keep himself balancing on the knife’s edge of decency. 

Across from him, Torge produces a data chip, holding it in the palm of his hand like it’s precious. Cassian draws his attention back, eyeing the chip with a raised eyebrow. “What do you have then?”

Torge smirks, sharply. “Information. Things the Imperials don’t want you poking into, shipment docs for what they’re carting off Jedha.” He pauses and leans closer, suddenly serious. “20,000 credits.”

Cassian frowns. “That’s a lot of dosh for some shipment docs. I could probably hack the Imperial databanks and get that, wouldn’t cost me a thing.”

There’s a moment of tension, then the klatoonian leans back, taking the data chip with him. “Not on the ‘net. Came from a cargo pilot that got … lost along his route. Once in awhile the Imps are smart enough to keep their business secretive.”

Cassian briefly considers what end that pilot met, if he made it back to Imperial space. It might have been better for him to stay lost, if what Torge is saying is true. “Fifteen. That's the best I can do.”

Torge stares at him for a moment, taking measure of Cassian’s face before giving a curt nod and placing the chip down onto the table with his palm pressed against it. He looks over toward the bar and gives a smile that Cassian can only describe as feral. “Get you the blond for the other five?” 

Clenching his jaw, Cassian darts a glance toward the bar, eyes the proprietary hand pressed against a slender back. Torge jumps to the top of his list of People To Avoid In Dark Alleys. 

“Who am I buying him out from under?” He wishes that he didn’t mean that literally, but the way Torge’s mouth twitches in response destroys any hope of that being true.

“Hutt’ll give me three easy. You’d be doing me a favor, save me from having to look at that ugly shit.”

“And here I thought the favor would be the extra 2000 credits, how silly of me.”

“Favors abound among friends, Chelis. Have we got a deal?”

Cassian grimaces, but he reaches into his jacket to pull out the credit chip. He’ll have to tell Draven that Torge was a better negotiator than they’d planned on, to explain how much of the Rebellion’s funding he just spent. He’s about to pass the chip over when a commotion starts over by the bar. The man who’s been guarding the blond, for lack of a better term, has a hand gripped around his arm now. 

He has to give the blond credit for the fight he puts up, a well placed elbow to the bigger man's sternum and a drink splashed into an aqualish’s face allows him enough time to slip out of the man's grasp. Cassian exchanges the data chip in Torge’s hand for the credits (no point in burning bridges he doesn't need to) and ducks out of the booth. He’s not surprised that the argument has already broken down into a full out brawl, and Cassian manages to trip Mr. Grabby Hands as he slips out the side door of the bar. He isn’t sure why he cares that the kid got away, but it’s a good day when he can get his hands on information  _ and  _ save someone from a life of servitude. 

Cassian walks through the alley, clicking out a message to K2 on his comm and almost stumbles into the back of yet another burly guy trying to capture the blond who is very quickly turning into a headache. Cassian mentally renames the blond; ‘headache’ suits him for the time being. He's fed up with this entire planet at this point. If there’s a bright spot to the universe, Tatooine might just be as far away from it as it’s possible to get. Cassian sighs and draws his blaster. 

“Alright, everybody needs to calm down now.”

The big guy looks up and laughs, which just really makes Cassian irritated. He’s got sand in his ears, he spent too many credits on this information and he thinks he may have absorbed the odor of the bar into his coat. He is not in the mood to be laughed at. Cassian raises his blaster higher, years of training guiding his hand automatically to center mass. The headache is looking back and forth between his prospective captor and Cassian like he’s not sure who he should be more afraid of. Cassian doesn’t blame him, really, though it does hurt just a little. 

“Listen, I don’t really want to shoot you, so if you just leave, we can all be on our way, okay?”

The big guy chuckles and starts moving toward Cassian. 

“Really?” Apparently he isn’t as intimidating as the headache seems to think he is. Cassian levels the blaster, sights his target, and lets out a sigh of relief when familiar black hands appear under the guy’s armpits, hoisting him into the air. 

“You are being detained. Please do not resist.”

The guy struggles, one heel clanging into contact with K2’s chassis. Kay lets out a sound that approximates a sigh. “Really?” Then he throws the guy against the wall of the alley like he’s made of straw, shrugging at Cassian when he raises his hands in question at the droid. 

“You were supposed to wait for me in the shuttle.”

“The shuttle is boring and you were taking too long. You’re welcome by the way.”

Cassian scowls. “I had it under control, clearly.”

K2 has no eyebrows, but somehow his entire faceplate seems to exude an expression of disbelief. Cassian needs to ask him how he manages that someday. “Ah yes, under control. As in, you were going to shoot your blaster and get yourself put ‘under control’ by the ‘troopers loitering around the corner.”

“This is _your_ droid ?” Crap. Cassian forgot about the headache, too caught up in arguing with Kay. He turns in the direction of the incredulous voice and tries to school his face into friendly indifference. 

Kay does not follow his example.

“I find it offensive that you assume I am his property. We are partners of equal standing.”

Cassian groans, rolling his eyes up into his head. “Yes, yes, you’re a credit to the Rebellion. What would I do without you.”

The headache’s (incredibly blue, stop noticing that Cassian, it isn’t relevant) eyes open wide. “The Rebellion!”

Cassian takes two steps forward and claps his hand across the blond’s mouth. “Shhh! Kriff, we need to get out of here.”

The headache looks up at Cassian, his breath warm and damp against Cassian’s palm and his blond hair falling into his eyes temptingly. Cassian makes a mental note to kick himself later for noticing. “If I take my hand away, can you be quiet?”

He nods and Cassian slowly draws his hand back, rewarded by a brilliant smile full of white teeth and the feeling of his heart stopping in his chest. Kriff.

The headache steps back, looking between Cassian and Kay. “Ok well, thanks for the rescue! I don't know what that guy’s problem was anyway.”

Cassian runs his hand back through his hair and winces. “Heh, about that...I may have unintentionally purchased you? But good news! You don't have to go be a slave for a Hutt…”

Stopping short and looking over at the guy still passed out against the alley wall, he says, “Wow, I guess I  _ really _ ought to thank you then. I mean, assuming you don’t intend to actually...keep me that is. Should I be running?” His mouth twitches up into a smirk, blue eyes lit up with mirth. 

“Of course - OF COURSE I didn’t intend to, Force save me - No. No, I wasn’t intending on purchasing a sex slave while gathering intel for the Rebellion. Somehow I can only see you getting yourself into  _ more _ trouble from here on out, so maybe we ought to give you a ride home.”

“Cassian, that is against protocol -”

“Shut. Up. Kay.”

Watching the exchange, biting his lip to hold back the laughter trying to burst out of him, the headache says, “Since you’re the reason I keep getting attacked, I suppose I should take you up on that offer.” Then he gives Cassian a very obvious once over and smirks again. “It’ll give me a chance to say thanks at least.”

“Oh good, we’re picking up strays now. Fantastic.”

\---

Back on board the shuttle, Cassian shrugs out of his outer layers, grimacing at the sand falling out onto the floor. He’ll be finding traces of that for months, he can already tell. The blond, and Cassian really needs to find out his name, the epithets are getting ridiculous, settles into a casual lean against the wall of the shuttle that draws Cassian’s gaze down the length of his body. K2 comes into the cockpit, gives an exaggerated look between the two men and announces, “I will be checking on something in the cargo hold for approximately the next 43 minutes. Please conclude whatever organic courting ritual you wish to pursue within that time constraint.” He looks over at Cassian pointedly then. “When we return to base, you can clean up whatever mess you make. Also, I want an upgrade to my sensor systems. In return, I will wipe my memory of this deviance to protocol.”

Cassian rolls his eyes and throws himself into the pilot seat, setting about getting the shuttle ready for takeoff. “You need to stop watching so many holodramas, Kay.”

“Your droid’s kind of unusual, huh?”

Cassian glances at Kay’s retreating back, huffing out a laugh. “Unusual. That’s one way to describe him.” 

He gestures at the co-pilot’s seat. “You can sit. What’s your name anyway?”

“Luke. Luke Skywalker.”

Luke grins and climbs into the seat like he belongs there, eyes darting over the controls. Cassian can feel himself starting to relax, back in the familiar territory of his shuttle, Kay’s odd behavior notwithstanding. Cassian finishes his flight check and looks up to find Luke watching him. 

“If I’m dropping you at home, I’ll need to know where you live,” he says, a small smile on his face. Luke bites his lip and slips out of the other chair, coming to stand in front of Cassian where he’s twisted the pilot's seat to one side. 

“Wait. Before we go, I do want to thank you for before. Would you...would you kick me off your ship if I kissed you?”

Cassian’s mouth falls open in shock and his lips move soundlessly for a moment before he finally manages to get words to come out. “You don't owe me anything. Please don't feel obligated, especially not to that-”

He’s cut off when Luke leans forward, one hand pressed to his jaw to tilt his face up, and then there are slightly chapped lips pressed against his own, the slick of a warm tongue easing the give and take of them. When Luke pulls away, Cassian can only sit for a moment, trying to gather his scattered brain back together. 

When he opens his eyes, Luke grins. “So, how much time do we have left now?”

Cassian glances toward the cargo hold and lets a smile slowly take over his face. He settles his hands on Luke's hips and pulls him into the vee of his thighs. “Oh, enough for a few more thank you’s at least.”

Luke dips back down to his mouth with a joyful laugh. Maybe Tatooine has its merits after all. 

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you to B and Ant for the cheerleading and advice!


End file.
